I’m not going to generate much text for this post, but here’s some links/freebie or near freebie items/etc. I found in recent synchy journeys through Our Second Lyfe.
Oh, and “Collagesity 2018 Early” is done! Link here:
I’m already prepping for “Collagesity 2018 Middle”, projected to be the 9th in the Collagesity graphic novel series. So, here we go…
Mention of Fillip (extreme northern sim of Heterocera mainland continent) found close together time-wise on two separate blogs. Pearl Grey of “Million Happy Endings” wordpress blog contacted and alerted about possible Russian psychic involvement. Owner of Kuzoku blog yet to be messaged:
Peculiarly found near top of google animated image search for “Venus statue 3d” (*no* “Second Life” added!):
That flat sculpture has been outside Collagesity’s town diner for several years now w/complementary Thick>Think Rock. This means something (*think* about it).
Martin County, Kentucky.
And then just some random pictures…
Animaid-X encounters a New Island stare down with a clown (clown stare down):
*Trashy* the Clown?
A Rodentia Blue Yip Yip (sorry… can’t find link):
Wolf confronts horse outside Collagesity — another stare down thanks to perspective. Russian again? Woods vs. Outside?:
A theme going on here (Pond District statue w/another “grey” alien):
A beckoning from both the future and the past:
Red (US of A) versus blue (US of SR). Nose bloodied in versus. Colors cold; climate cold. Red star already here (w/ [naked] Big Red).
Pond District again: 8 Second Lyfe continents, 8 graphic novels. “No. 9′, ‘no. 9’, ‘no. 9” flips back to “Back in the USSR”.
A rival to Collagesity’s Cult of Oo’d? Main church would have to be in Rodentia to me for obvious reasons.
Veyot of “Virtual Veyot” wordpress blog contacted and warned about more possible Russian psychic involvement.
Would you like fries with that cheese?
Yesterday on Farcebook…
New Island and The Beginning
Annie was surprised to still find the pink Mini Coop perched on tiny Fishers Isle with its 4 trees and the truth. The real owner of the boathouse land (and the isle) must not be online very much, she rationalized. She decided to check. You can do this by joining a group an avatar is a member of and viewing their status, which will indicate the last time they logged onto Our Second Lyfe.
Okay, last time for this particular avatar: 12/16/17. Closing in on a half year ago. This pink car could be sitting here for a while. But where were Bendy and Fisher, freshly returned from the Second Lyfe Underground with tall tales to tell obviously? She recalls something about a dinner. Last Supper?
Checking her new smart phone Axis (Tronesisia?) gave her, Annie didn’t find any mention of Fisher and Lord Bendington (this particular blog is usually blocked from characters within, to protect them from infinity points) but she did find a Fry thanks to a face recognition app.
Hmm, she thinks at the time. Fisher is Fry, or, actually, as she is looking yet again today, *Fries* (Mandela Effect in effect, thanks to Fishers Isle). And his famous traveling companion Lord Bendington is obviously this Bender fellow from the same show, this “Futurama.” Or was it Bendy? Anyway, her new boss Tronesisia (Axis?) said that Fisher is also Clare Nova, one of the old lords of Greater VHC City. And, as such, Fisher was dead but now brought back to life. Like Jesus or the Easter Bunny. The Underground is Death itself.
In the future, Fisher will lead a new religion championing life over death, hope over despair, peace and harmony over war and strife. Bendington will be his trusted right hand Peter, Paul and Mary all rolled up into one
(joint). But it is the era of religion. Witness Collagesity with its rival upstarts of the Cult of Oo’d and Fries with Cheese.
Yes, there was more to accomplish here on this New Island. Annie was a bonafide artist now. And Karl is back (!), thanks to Baker Bloch wisely yielding to Baker Blinker’s wishes.
Annie remains Wheeler and Wheeler remains Annie ’round and ’round.
Mrs. Fogg always ate and drank alone in her beachside house. Her husband had died many years ago in a boating accident involving a run in with a huge piece of floating cheddar out in Yd Bay, broken off from the Great Cheese, no doubt, during the hot summer of ’56. The sim of Yd had seen many interesting events in its time, invoking both tears and laughter. There was Jack Benny’s USO show in ’42 that took place on the wide beach there, for instance, but they never found the almost priceless red violin that octopus wrestled from the comedian mid joke. Claimed by the bay, as they say.
Mrs. Fogg will put away several more full glasses of wine before retiring to her lonely, grey bedroom.
Ms. Frame, a near neighbor of the sad Mrs. Fogg, almost always forgot to put on suntan lotion before sailing, thus her condition at age 36. She at least carries around a shading umbrella these days, but too little too late if you ask me. Ms. Frame is also widowed, having lost her husband to the ’78 land sharks revolts. But, unlike Mrs. Fogg, she remains upbeat and breezy despite her misfortunes, and is a devout member of the 2nd Fries With Cheese Church down in mid-town. Drop in any time for tea and cheddar biscuits she told The Bakers just last week.
Young Ruby was the latest avatar to be sent through Eraserhead Man’s Rabbit Hole portal, direct orders of the new Queen of Collagesity who is Mabel. Get to *that* story a little bit. Being a natural explorer, Ruby’s interest was immediately piqued by two larger dunes to the northwest of EM’s property, just beyond where Annie famously painted her mate Karl as a smooth, bloated blue boy instead of his regular hairy, chubby self.
Ruby knew that naming had become important on New Island, thus considered the appellation of these two dunes carefully. That was one of her assigned responsibilities.
She stood there for about 15 minutes…
… while the sun rose to her east, casting the dunes in a rosy light. Rose 1 and Rose 2 they shall be, she determined, and then treats herself to a banana split float at nearby Bumpy’s Ice Cream Village as a reward for her naming success, the first of a good number she would apply to both the island’s physical and political geographies.
Later, another new character named Tin Tin would discover two roses in a New Island skybox and understand the synchronistic resonance. There was an important difference between the two dunes, just like there was for these roses.
One is more natural and one is less so. The digging would commence soon.
Annie sneaks up on Trashy the Clown from behind this time, surprising him.
“Gimme some pills!”
“You’ll have to stay behind from this point on, Young Ruby,” commanded Annie, hands on hips at the entrance to the sugar house.
“I thought you were an *artist*, Aunt Annie.”
“I’m slipping. Karl is threatening to turn blue again. I need a cash replenishing. This will do it.”
“Don’t do it. Think of Tennessee. Would *she* stoop this low?”
“Many times,” countered Annie to the youngster, not her real niece but a faux relationship Ruby deemed necessary. And she had that power, thanks to Mabel. But she couldn’t take away her free will. “Many times with many men,” Annie furthered. “And their many parts.”
Ruby continued to pout outside while Annie signed up for her new business. “If you tell Karl, I’ll kill you,” she told Ruby later. Annie may have to have some therapy soon. I chalk it up to the recent pill popping. Red and blue are all mixed up for her, undifferentiated.
By the time The Bill had returned to Collagesity, Pitch Darkly was already well into his Russian phase. He had recreated Maebaeleia’s Russian Matrix in the town skybox, a Second Lyfe landmass he insisted on calling the *Russian* continent and not the Japanese Continent, although the latter was its most common nickname (Just to be clear here, many consider the continent’s primary name to be Satori and not Maebaleia, but let’s don’t go into that right now). “Look at the Jeogeot-Maebaleia Rabbit Hole,” he would argue with Buster Damm and others who expressed confusion about his terming. “The Maebaleia end is in Ubab… Ubablab…” “Ulyanovskuly Oblast,” Buster might correct Pitch on any given night. “Yes, the oblast or politcal region where Lenin was born, true,” he might say. “That’s the only way it worked,” Pitch then could continue. “Russian… or actually *Polish* in that movie with the 47 Room…” “‘INLAND EMPIRE,'” Buster Damm might accurately insert here. “Yes,” Pitch could reply, “the Jeogeot-Maebaleia Rabbit Hole is the same as the hole or portal in that movie, caused by pressing a lighted cigarette through a folded piece of cloth. That way you become Rebus Caneebus and fall in. All the way to Russia. Or Poland.” “‘Back in the USSR,'” Buster might tack on in an attempt to wrap the topic up and move on to other things.
The Ulyanovskuly Oblast side of the Rabbit Hole had long been smoothed over, but once it looked like this:
The other side of the hole, in the sim of Blackmount in what I call the Sunklands district of the Jeogeot continent, remains intact quite amazingly, thanks to the faithful stewardship of long time owner Alyx Sand, with whom I exchanged a couple of messages over the subject some years back now. As I recall, she inherited the hole, and made the obvious connection that it was a rabbit variety leading to parts unknown. Pitch has since followed up on my initial contact, asking if Alyx ever fell through the hole when it was actually and truly operable. Before the time of direct teleportation between two distant points in Our Second Lyfe, in other words. She indicated to him that it no longer served that function when she purchased the land in 2007.
Pitch has made several pilgrimages to the Blackmount hole in the last several months, falling in on purpose each visit just to see what would happen. No “bottomless pit” this time leading to another dimension. Only immersion in a small pool of Linden water at the terminus of an approx. 100 meter fall. Try it for yourself!
Darkly Manor matters
Mary sometimes couldn’t sleep at night. “Do you really have to wear that hat to bed, Pitch,” she might declare, waking up her vampire spouse. “It sometimes flaps over into my face.” “Yes,” Pitch would always reply. “I’m Russian through and through now, even while sleeping.” “And I thought vampires sleep during the *day*,” Mary added one time, receiving an answer so convoluted she never brought the subject up again.
“I only need one color.”
Okay, so Alice 02’s landscape paintings of New Island tended to be a little glamorized or accentuated, granted. This triptych, which she chose to hang in her new Meanderhead apartment across the lake from her aunt’s house, depicts fabled Fishers Isle at low tide in the center, with Mt. Sondra, the highest elevation of the island but still hardly at mountain atall, poking up in the background. She has more trouble with vegetation than water, so she tends to negate the former in her work, like here.
Alice 02, whose real name was Adelaide, didn’t need the apartment, but it was so cheap and spacious she couldn’t resist.
She also had a peculiar attraction to the cigarette ad hanging on the wall outside, a beckoning she only grasped presently on a deep, intuitive level. “Come to… Marlboro.” Soon she would understand more about all that while puffing on a different kind of cigarette.
|From the folds of her gown, she lifted a green metal cube about fifteen centimeters on a side. She turned it and Paul saw that one side was open – black and oddly frightening. Paul slowly put his hand into the box. He first felt a sense of cold as the blackness closed around his hand, then slick metal against his fingers and a prickling as though his hand were asleep…“What’s in the box?”
|From Dune, by Frank Herbert.
Published by Putnam in 1965
Sister Martha Lamb has her eye on all the degenerative art of Collagesity for certain. But most of all she has her eye on the Cheese. The Great Cheese.
She expects many more seekers to pay for the privilege.
“It is indeed,” Sister Martha Lamb muttered to herself while studying “Bullrocks” (Falmouth 08) and seeing the phrase “Copyright Protected Image” adhered to the mason jar with the fake bull moose inside. But she couldn’t help being intrigued by all the intertwined legs and shoulders — bull in jar, bull outside jar, and that ridiculous Mr. Bean man Rowan Atkinson involved as well. Aliens, hrmph. She couldn’t stand them. They didn’t exist in her world. The World of Cheese. “This one will go first to prove my point and to cut the heart out of the resistance at the beginning.” She turned. “Now… the hand.”
“I am the 9th, Mary.”
“That’s great. Are we done (with the snapshot)? Let’s walk over to the insane asylum, if so. Let’s go see Adelaide.”
“Alice’s (Alices?) nowhere to be found. We reside in the Ukraine now. Russian is sooo yesterdays.”
“Let’s just *go*.”
“Oh all right,” Pitch Darkly relents and gets up to head westward. Into Russia territory again. New Island, pheh.
The portal entrance to Lake Tethia. Pitch allows Mary to get all angley and fish for perch a moment, with immediate success.
She schemes to make a list of Pond District pools and their angling potentials. Would Pitch allow her to complete the project, though, given this is “Russian” territory now? And what’s *wrong* with her husband? Would he return to normal after all this “Number 9” stuff is done?
Unable to get through today, however — the property seems blocked. Did they do this specifically to keep Pitch out of their village? These Ruskies? He hates them now, whatever the actual facts.
Northern side here: he’s just not having much luck. Pitch black blocks him again.
He decides to teleport back home and try again another time. Mary, of course, follows him there. What a lamb.
Later, in the consulting room at the Collagesity branch of Fries with Cheese…
“You must leave your husband. *Immediately*.”
“I’m over here,” the distressed Mary beckons.
“I’m sorry,” Sister Martha Lamb apologizes. “I can’t… seem to turn my head… to the left right now.”
Here’s the deal. Baker Bloch was in charge of Collagesity and possibly the relatively nearby Pond District, while Wheeler Wilson here covered New Island in its entirety. ‘Round and ’round, as they say, or I said. Infinity Point is next, the Gods declare. A starting point in a way.*
… and then picks up a free magazine before leaving.
She’ll be back.
* This insinuates that the Tropp (True Opp) controlled New Eden has truly separated from New Island and made its own sphere of power — but we’ll see. If so, I’ll have to adjust my blog categories accordingly.
Annie already has a small gallery near the center of New Island showing her nudes. Karl admires his own portrait again even after leaving. It literally brought him back to life. What a gal, he thinks. I must keep her forever.
Now let’s see. I head directly west to get back home I believe. Pretty sure.
But then he sees the teleport invite from that Infinity Point we mentioned before. Almost immediately, Karl was with Annie, the latter painting not a seascape as one would suppose from the location, but what happened at work today.
Karl takes a seat and watches the painting continue to evolve. He decides to let her concentrate on her work. After a minute or two, he speaks. “All I see is a buoy out there, baby doll, but whatever rocks your boat I guess. Whatever gets you motivated.”
“Um hum,” is all Annie grunted in response, finishing up the last bits. She was almost ready again.
no narrow escape
Dr. I.C. Yourinsides knew that this narrow boat would never make it off the wide New Island beach. The magnetic attraction of the place had snared another one.
For the moment, Tessa laid the blame somewhere else. “Oh no, Grandpa. What have you gone and done *now*?”
Sh-t, he thinks from the back. Can’t steer this thing worth a lick!
Martian Mabel so desired to remain Queen of Collagesity on “Earth”, but she knew she had other responsibilities for now. New Island would stay an always perceived/felt aberration, to her and others, unless she came here and helped resolve the whole situation. This morning she invited closest confidant and former Mission resident Turchin McGurchin over for counsel; her right hand man in many ways. The Mission project had been aborted and Precious Snowflake’s Rainbow Sphere files moved to a safer location.
“Roger Pine Ridge represents a problem,” Mabel continues. “He’s looking for them.”
Turchin McGurchin tears off another piece of his cheese croissant and gobbles it up quickly, like someone else would do it for him if he didn’t act fast. Mission training in effect here. “Roger is useless,” he then says, mouth still full and chewing away at too big a chunk for its space. “Our joint user Baker B. had to move the whole Sunklands operation from Ink, Arkansas to Ink, Missouri because of him, but to no avail. He tried pushing him into the big sink there — no good again. He unwisely gave away a server to Sunklands Ink in Marked Tree, Arkansas and now needs it back. The Reality Module of the blog is currently inoperable. Not even Dr. I.C. Yourinsides can help.
“But we’ll need her later.” Mable pauses, looks over at Annie’s nudes displayed in Swanson’s Art Gallery next door to her right. Turchin follows her stare. “We’ll have to cut them out of the picture.”
“Which one?” the grizzly old man ponders. “You mean Annie’s pictures as a whole? You mean the *bits*?”
Mabel reconsiders. “Yes,” she finally speaks.
“A SPHEROID BEING, Robot! Just in front of Ruby’s BLUE ROSE Dune! TOP SECRET STUFF, right Robot?!”
“I guess so,” his mechanical friend and neighbor replies. “It *was*.”
“Like LAURA from ‘The Return’! Like BILL!”
An awkward pause ensued. Robot Derak Jones was hesitant to correct Eraserhead Man played by the great David Lynch on the name of perhaps his most infamous creation. Eventually one of the cameramen spoke up.
“BOB!!” Eraserhead Man then echoed around a good majority of central New Island. “How could I FORGET THAT?! Played by the LATE GREAT FRANK SILVA! THANK YOU, JIM!” he shouted toward the cameraman. He then faced Robot again. “I’m now going to TURN UP MY HEARING AID so we can SPEAK IN PRIVATE!”
“REMEMBER,” he said before adjusting the dial, “speak at a WHISPER from now on!”
“But that Eraserhead Man was halfway wrong about the situation. The sphere being lies *between* the two dunes, one red and the other blue. Both roses of course. We need to talk with whoever lives in that high castle in the background. He or she could have seen what happened.”
“Well…” says Annie to her faux niece Ruby. “*He’s* right behind you.” Ruby whirls. Axis waves innocently from the table.
“If only we could hear what they’re talking about right now.”
“Hold on,” Axis then offers. “I’ll rewind it and then turn up the sound.”